


Caring is Hard Sometimes...

by AtmaAiu



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Fluff, Love, M/M, Other, unexperienced dominant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-06
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-03-16 15:27:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3493433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AtmaAiu/pseuds/AtmaAiu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a nameless small  Lobe/Trepan BDSM fanfiction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caring is Hard Sometimes...

June 29th, 2014 at 5:38AM

Just a nameless Lobe/Trepan BDSM fanfiction.  
Warnings: NSFW, not-that-perfect English, inexperienced dominant, aftercare.

Trepan squirmed, bucking his hips helplessly. His interface equipment was almost aching with the sweet tension, with the anticipation of the bliss that didn’t come. The vents weren’t able to cope with the heat that was burning up his systems, - the only way to get rid of it was getting an overload. To be allowed to overload, that’s so.  
Lobe knew that, and the way that mech was teasing Trepan, torturing him with those tender caresses, made the pearl-grey mnemosurgeon wishing he had never agreed to this. The ring that was squeezing the base of Trepan’s spike tightly, prevented him from getting even the slightest sweet spasm, - and this was fine only till the moment his overload was there. Since then, that feeling became excruciating. He wished he could touch himself at least, distract the attention he still had from those sensations - but it was hard to do with his hands tied above his head. He was lying on the berth, helpless, opened and whimpering with the heat of arousal that was tormenting him.  
Lobe was kneeling on the berth between Trepan’s defencelessly spread legs, his fingers plunging in and out of the small valve in a slow, teasing rhythm. This was his idea, proposed as an experiment aimed on variegating their intimate time but which turned to be an exquisite torture disguised as a lesson in self-discipline. Lobe was fed up with his mate’s behavior, - his risky adventurism, his childish insouciance, - and couldn’t think of nothing better but this. Now, restrained and needy, his little Trepan, his former apprentice, his former subordinate, his present conjunx endura was being given a choice: to lie down silently and unmowing while being fragged mercilessly, or to have everything continued. Trepan would’ve been glad to obey… if only it was possible to withstand this. The sheets under his hips were soaked with lubricants, and when Lobe withdrew his fingers out, the off-colour string stretched itself between his fingertips and the sore rim of the valve.  
"Please, please… stop it…" - Trepan begged. This had been going for a bit too long that was needed, and Lobe knew this. - "Please… it’s… Lobe, please…"  
"I love you," - Lobe told him quietly, - "More than anyone else. But your lack of self-control is really, really sad. I wish I could use another means on you, - more gentle, more… sparing. But you leave me no choice, little one. This the way I am going to teach you."  
He was glad to stop it, though.  
"You’re a mnemosurgeon, Primus dammit!" - Trepan cried, trying to pull back from the fingers that were teasing the very sensitive spot on the front wall of his valve. He didn’t think of what he was saying, concentrating and choosing the proper words was impossible for him now. - "Please, please, stop it!"  
The thumb pressed itself to the outer nodes between the wet, glistening valve lips, and Trepan squeaked helplessly. The spark was thrashing in his chest, like a cornered mechanimal.  
"So what abiut that, dear? It’s not about wrecking you, it’s about learning. Don’t be stupid. Why didn’t I transfer all the knowledge into your brain module with injecting you when you were my apprentice?.. Here, the reason is the same," - the bigger mech leant to the defencelessly exposed thigh and gave it a long, gentle kiss. - "Just a munute without any move, my dear. And you will be allowed to overload. You can control it. You can do what I am telling you to. Just lie still and be quiet for just a single minute."  
His voice was kind and loving,- he was almost asking his mate to be more composed. To say honestly, he wasn’t that good as a dominant: being a proud, self-assured mech himself, he was surprisingly gentle and caring at interfacing. He was almost reluctant doing this to his mate, but there was no other way to do anything about Trepan’s childish stubbornness. Only punishing him would work, this harmless way at first. The words never worked.  
Lobe rose up and licked Trepan’s cheek.  
"It is never difficult to control yourself when you know what the result of your deeds would be. Do what I am asking you for, and the ties will be taken off. Proceed quivering, and you will be left like this. The choice is yours…"  
"Stop… stop it…"  
"After you obey, love. Not earlier."  
The tip of the spike nudged the warm opening.  
"Just lie still. You can do it."  
Lobe pushed his cord into Trepan’s hot, waiting valve slit before his poor, exhausted partner could let out a single sound of a protest. The smaller mech keened, as now, with his sweet place all swollen after the thorough preparation, it felt as if he was stretched beyond his limits. And when the partner started moving, Trepan fell limp, whining like a cyberkitten, dizzy and almost blind.  
His spark was barely pulsating…  
That wasn’t pleasant anymore, neither the spike that was opening him, nor the hand on the spike of his own, his tense, hypersensitive rod. Every caress, every touch and every move brought pain. Trepan felt he couldn’t even whimper. He was laying limp, staring into nothingness and seeing nothing, and his mate’s voice seemed to come from somewhere far as the whole eternity, - not just a minute, - passed:  
"You have done well, my love. Now you will have your reward…"  
At the first moment it felt like a sharp pain that burnt through his most tender parts. Trepan thought he wasn’t able to scream already, and his own desperate howl was a surprise for him. His valve was clenching on the invading spike, swallowing it, squeezing it. The transfluid shot out, soiling the armor plates on the abdomen, Trepan lifted his hips to meet his mate’s thrusts, his scream died down to whimpers.  
But, slowly and steadily, the pain became weaker, turning into the sweet, stinging heat that was filling his throbbing valve. His wrists were free now, and, gasping, Trepan tried to cling up to Lobe in attempt to have more of this painful pleasure he was given. The copper-orange mech cuddled him:  
"That wasn’t too difficult, was it, love?.. Just remember this next time you will be about to get into some risky affair…" - he ceased talking to kiss his still softly whimpering mate. Those were the whimpers of bliss now, and the tears on those smooth white cheeks were the tears of relief.  
"You’re a pervert," - Trepan huffed, curling up and thus exposing his work-worn, aching private parts unwillingly. Lobe laughed softly and caught the smaller mech into a stronger, but still very gentle hug:  
"That’s your faut. I’ve tried to explain you the necessity of being careful in a nice way. You didn’t listen. Annnnnd… you are too perfect to not to wake the darkest and the dirtiest side of any mech, and I am no exception," - he explained. - "Do you want me to clean you up?"  
Weak and tired, Trepan snorted perplexedly:  
"What?"  
"You’re all wet," - copper-orange fingers slapped on the valve lips, earning Lobe a strong bite on the neck from his mate. - "This has to be cleaned…"  
On giving Trepan a small, quick kiss, he slipped to his bare intrface array and nuzzled it. With a smile, Lobe slowly started licking Trepan’s limpid lubricants off his silver thighs and valve lips.  
The smaller mnemosurgeon giggled softly and patted his mate’s helm. He was sure Lobe would try to repeat his lesson very, very soon, - and Trepan was more than fine with it.


End file.
